


Synaesthesia

by kesomon



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: M/M, Tron Kink Meme, bastardized use of synaesthesia, circuit licking, circuit porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the slip and slide of power beneath his tongue, Sam imagines he can taste the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synaesthesia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shirozora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirozora/gifts).



> This actually and completely on accident [fills a prompt](http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com/5506.html?thread=4926850#t4926850) I posted on the kinkmeme! Go me!
> 
> For Shirozora, who writes the best Sam/Tron, and therefore deserves Sam/Tron in return.

It's been a long day on both sides of the screen; gridbugs in the outer sectors running Tron ragged and the board breathing down Sam's neck. But they're here now, a moment of peace amidst the chaos, and it's theirs to take.

Sam has Tron pinned to the sheets, chasing the flicker of indigo over armour, watching blue bleed to purple and back as he runs feather-light touches around the edges. The program groans, arching his back at each caress, hips canting up to grind against the erection in Sam's jeans, and the electric fizz that snaps up his spine every time has him hard and aching for relief.

Still he teases, coaxing rainbows of light beneath his fingertips, stray thoughts floating across a sex-addled mind. He leans over, trailing a finger over a chest node and, almost as afterthought, chases it with the slick slide of his tongue. Tron moans and Sam echoes, mouthing that bright point of light as it cycles blue-indigo-purple, the cool tingle of static sharp against his tongue. He grinds his hips down, feeling the power jolt through his spine and blossom in spots behind his eyes, and imagines he tastes something more beyond the citrus tang that he's come to associate with any form of energy on the Grid.

He laps at a line still clinging to its indigo hue and tastes blueberry; laves it further until it burns a rich purple; the flavour shifts and plum dances across his palette. Tron is gasping now, moaning Sam's name, stuck in a repetition cycle as the User bites down, sucking a rich, magenta bruise into the delicate lattice of light. Sam retreats to admire his handiwork, lowers his head to brush a tender lick across the spot, and tastes cherry in the sparks that flow over his senses, though it's all in his head. Beneath him, Tron shudders, running hot and burning bright, hands digging into his hips in a way that's sure to leave bruises of his own.

"Mine," Sam murmurs huskily, dipping his head in once more, and as his mouth touches to the four squares at Tron's collar, and the world goes white for both of them, he thinks he tastes the sea.


End file.
